4vA]^#PG#IN-6#ST-7#SP-3#DR-7#EP-1#FS-4#AD
Post by Dr. Robert Bruce Banner on Mar 13, 2007 23:19:01 GMT -5
Bruce Banner, known to the world as--the Hulk, only if it were not so. Only if he could have a normal life. Not as long as the monster within him, always looked back at him through the bathroom mirror. Those green eyes brought fear into Banners brown orbs, that shade of green, made Banner wonder, why green? And the creatures sure size wasn't to be without good thought. It sent chills up Banners spine, to think he could become such a creature only seen in horror films. of all the people in the world, superheroes, mutants, the like. He had to be the one whom took a full blast of Gamma Rays to become nothing more then a mindless--Hulk. He hated it, he wanted it to be over, but Banner never thought to take is own life, nor would the creature allow such, he had to admit the creature needed him, even if the creature hated, how weak Banner was.
Then again Banner liked being as strong as he could be when he was the Hulk, sometimes he liked to transform--into a mindless creature, it meant, he could do things that made a mere mortal piss themselves and re-think their life’s problems, or re-think ever crossing him, well lets just say to Banner they were pretty amazing, unless the Hulk was the cause of countless murders, it happened before. Better to be rid of the creature as soon as possible. He sat in bed, in his one room apartment thinking, he tossed and turned he couldn't sleep. He had took much on his mind, meaning the Hulk persona was bothering him again, its been almost six months or more, then again those anger management classes he had been taking were working well for him.
He looked up at the ceiling. Banners apartment was no pent house then again he didn't mind, it was an area for lower class people, but good people, people who’s hero was Spider-man, or for that matter Captain America. Banner had to admire the guy. For now he was settled down. He had a good job as the day shift cleaning guy at a local school, it paid the bills, and kept him honest. Bruce turned over and closed his eyes. What he saw was only his nightmares. He was in the company of each Hulk. See Banner became different Hulk, most well know being the Green Savage Hulk. The monster everyone dreaded.
Even Banner feared him, then their was the professor, the smarter Hulk, and last the all mighty Grey Hulk, all fighting to see whom would eat him for dinner. Banner ran but it did not good, he was picked up and ripped in half three times, then Banner woke. To sheets full of sweats, he managed to fight off another attack, if he had failed he would become the Hulk, his dreams could induce his transformation, it was very possible, in fact its been done before by Banner himself. He rolled to his feet, walked into the bathroom, and behind the Mirror waited the Hulk. It spoke to Banner, even smiled at him. "Puny Banner, Hulk Hate Banner!" Banner watched as the Hulk grabbed him a gushed his head open. Banner woke, this time pinching himself, "Ow!" Of course it wasn’t real, he was thankful for that. Another damn nightmare, and fearful, he had almost lost it.
Banner rose from bed, and walked not to far to two sliding class doors, over looking a two story apartment building. Opened the door and went outside. The nightmares were getting worse he thought. He didn't know how long before he lost control. He let the cool air hit his bare chest, he wore his lucky charm boxers that night to bed. He relaxed and sat in a lawn chair, grabbed the morning newspaper that was at his door only moments before, and read the news, the New York Times of course, the only news he felt worth reading, for today at least. The Avengers! Stupid Avengers Banner, let the thought escape him, Hulk smash puny Metal Man. No one stronger then Hulk!
A storm was coming! It was coming Soon! And that Storm was Green!
Flash Back
Banner never had a decent child hood. His father would come home from work and beat him, his Mother would be their to comfort him. She would cradle him by rocking him in her arms, his Father would scream because the child was to old for this attention. His Father Brian Banner was a scientist. He was under stress, he had created a monster in his son, and his own mother loved him no matter what, yet he want to spare the child, his own flesh and blood from the pain of dealing with the monster. His Mother seemed to be the only one to calm him anymore. Little Bruce was seven years old, and his Mother was dead. It was a harsh reality of living, his Father was giving Bruce a bath and Bruce was screaming. “I don’t want soap in my eyes, no, I want my dinosaur.” His Father screamed at him. “Your Mother’s dead boy, its your fault!” Banner was crying, more so screaming. Because his Father was no sooner then later pulling him to his feet. Kicking and screaming, young Banner was put in the closet, while his Father watched television. He cry all night until his Father kick him outside in the morning, kind enough to give him clothes, and sent him off to school. His Father was a mean drunk. Often Bruce covered his bruises on his frail body, he was shy and scared of making friends. In school he sit alone playing with the rubber dinosaurs, dreaming his own little world. His own anger cause a young boy to turn a pale green. The monster in young Bruce Banner was alive and well. He game home from school that day with a bloody nose. Someone had called his mother a whore. You should see the other kid, he won’t be able to walk again for a few weeks, nor sit right for a month. This brought a weak smile to the young Banner’s lips. The school had called home. Robert, “Bobby” as his Mother called him. Was in for a beating. His Father stood at the door way, pointing for him to get into the bath room. As soon as Banner was nude and sitting in the tub, a belt hit him across the bare bottom, a crack of wet leather rang through the tile. Bobby screamed, as the second lashing drew a drop of blood. To him it seemed to be more then a drop, perhaps it was. “Starting fights boy, what do you think boy. That you’re a man now.” His skin blotched a dark shade of green before quickly, turning to his customary tone. His Father saw this and smiled. “Angry are we boy?“ Bobby could smell the fresh scent of booze on his Father breath. Banner knew his Father blamed him for his Mothers Rebecca’s death. Bruce Banner held himself and when he came to realize he was laying on his bed, he looked around frantic and scared. At first he didn’t know where he was. His bed was soft yet it didn’t provide much comfort on his bare bottom that now blistered purple. Young Banner wanted nothing more to let the demon out, just this once. He wanted to scream, to give into his anger, that was holding him back. He could feel the ripple of anger deep within him, crawling at his wall that was mentally blocking his emotions. He wished this feeling would just fade into nothingness, and it would be no more, then he would wake from this nightmare. Of course he would wake to see his Mother comforting him. But it was always his Father towering over him taunting him. Banner’s eyes turned white, as his milky hazed pupils turned green. He would sake in rage, and his shirt seemed to peel away as his skin turned green, growing in mass, the angrier he got. His pants and shoes would buckle but not the remain of his shredded pants were left handing from his large green legs. An echoing bellow would follow. A towering green mass of flesh and muscle, gave way to the brute monster, of child like mannerisms. “Hulk no like soap in eyes. No like stupid little man whom beat Hulk.” The Hulk bellowed, drool and the smell of something rotten hung from his yellow teeth. His large green eyes narrowed his hand formed a fist. That large green arm brought back that fist, and blood spattered the mirror. In a spray of red. “No one mess with Hulk. Leave Hulk alone.”
A man’s body could be seen tossing and turning in the sheets. He woke screaming, seat covering both the bed and himself. Banner always woke to a scream, and the sudden realization that he was dreaming. To a life that wasn’t his own, he told himself every morning, as he took upon the identity of David Bannen. As he stood in the mirror shaving, careful not to cut himself, to let himself feel the pain of the razor upon his face, as it sliced into his cheek. It didn’t, came the sudden breath of letting himself breath out. He was a handsome gentleman, brown hair and brown eyes that glow like emeralds, if you look close enough. He was in good shape, and he like hard work, often he would take whatever jobs he could get to make it from month to month. Banner wiped clean his face, standing nude before the mirror. He hung the face towel upon it’s neat rack. His ears caught the sound of running warm water. He feet moved toward it, as he stepped into the steam collected shower, and allowed the warmth to wake him into reality. He produced a latter over his body, then quickly rinsed, doing the same for his hair and face. A hand turned the shower knob to off, and a nice clean shaven David--really named Bruce Banner--but the world believes Banner dead--and the creature known as the Hulk is disappeared--still wanted for the death of Bruce Banner. David Bannen stepped from the shower drying himself off with a towel.
Hitch hiking if you could call it that--is where we find--our friend David Bannen. A lone figure wearing a red button up collared shirt, tucked into his blue jeans, a black belt looped through the hole provided. A back pack tossed over the right shoulder, the left hand outward, thumb pointed upwards. Running from the law--his past--and the creature that is wanted for his murder. Or the murder of his past--if you can call it that. Bannen hummed to himself a tune, blue skies in fact. He was good looking--handsome if you could say so. His brown hair waving in the cool breeze. Perhaps someone would come along--and offer him a ride--then again perhaps not.
A FEW HOURS BEFORE.
A man’s body could be seen tossing and turning in the sheets. He woke screaming, seat covering both the bed and himself. Banner always woke to a scream, and the sudden realization that he was dreaming. To a life that wasn’t his own, he told himself every morning, as he took upon the identity of David Bannen. As he stood in the mirror shaving, careful not to cut himself, to let himself feel the pain of the razor upon his face, as it sliced into his cheek. It didn’t, came the sudden breath of letting himself breath out. He was a handsome gentleman, brown hair and brown eyes that glow like emeralds, if you look close enough. He was in good shape, and he like hard work, often he would take whatever jobs he could get to make it from month to month. Banner wiped clean his face, standing nude before the mirror. He hung the face towel upon it’s neat rack. His ears caught the sound of running warm water. He feet moved toward it, as he stepped into the steam collected shower, and allowed the warmth to wake him into reality. He produced a latter over his body, then quickly rinsed, doing the same for his hair and face. A hand turned the shower knob to off, and a nice clean shaven David--really named Bruce Banner--but the world believes Banner dead--and the creature known as the Hulk is disappeared--still wanted for the death of Bruce Banner. He stepped from the shower drying himself off with a towel. He would say good by to this place, he has stayed far to long---a few to many had saw the creature---he couldn’t have people asking around---they might discover he was alive, if they knew whom he was in the first place. He paid his due rent and checked out heading for the high way a few miles down the road. [/color]
Then again Banner liked being as strong as he could be when he was the Hulk, sometimes he liked to transform--into a mindless creature, it meant, he could do things that made a mere mortal piss themselves and re-think their life’s problems, or re-think ever crossing him, well lets just say to Banner they were pretty amazing, unless the Hulk was the cause of countless murders, it happened before. Better to be rid of the creature as soon as possible. He sat in bed, in his one room apartment thinking, he tossed and turned he couldn't sleep. He had took much on his mind, meaning the Hulk persona was bothering him again, its been almost six months or more, then again those anger management classes he had been taking were working well for him.
He looked up at the ceiling. Banners apartment was no pent house then again he didn't mind, it was an area for lower class people, but good people, people who’s hero was Spider-man, or for that matter Captain America. Banner had to admire the guy. For now he was settled down. He had a good job as the day shift cleaning guy at a local school, it paid the bills, and kept him honest. Bruce turned over and closed his eyes. What he saw was only his nightmares. He was in the company of each Hulk. See Banner became different Hulk, most well know being the Green Savage Hulk. The monster everyone dreaded.
Even Banner feared him, then their was the professor, the smarter Hulk, and last the all mighty Grey Hulk, all fighting to see whom would eat him for dinner. Banner ran but it did not good, he was picked up and ripped in half three times, then Banner woke. To sheets full of sweats, he managed to fight off another attack, if he had failed he would become the Hulk, his dreams could induce his transformation, it was very possible, in fact its been done before by Banner himself. He rolled to his feet, walked into the bathroom, and behind the Mirror waited the Hulk. It spoke to Banner, even smiled at him. "Puny Banner, Hulk Hate Banner!" Banner watched as the Hulk grabbed him a gushed his head open. Banner woke, this time pinching himself, "Ow!" Of course it wasn’t real, he was thankful for that. Another damn nightmare, and fearful, he had almost lost it.
Banner rose from bed, and walked not to far to two sliding class doors, over looking a two story apartment building. Opened the door and went outside. The nightmares were getting worse he thought. He didn't know how long before he lost control. He let the cool air hit his bare chest, he wore his lucky charm boxers that night to bed. He relaxed and sat in a lawn chair, grabbed the morning newspaper that was at his door only moments before, and read the news, the New York Times of course, the only news he felt worth reading, for today at least. The Avengers! Stupid Avengers Banner, let the thought escape him, Hulk smash puny Metal Man. No one stronger then Hulk!
A storm was coming! It was coming Soon! And that Storm was Green!
Flash Back
Banner never had a decent child hood. His father would come home from work and beat him, his Mother would be their to comfort him. She would cradle him by rocking him in her arms, his Father would scream because the child was to old for this attention. His Father Brian Banner was a scientist. He was under stress, he had created a monster in his son, and his own mother loved him no matter what, yet he want to spare the child, his own flesh and blood from the pain of dealing with the monster. His Mother seemed to be the only one to calm him anymore. Little Bruce was seven years old, and his Mother was dead. It was a harsh reality of living, his Father was giving Bruce a bath and Bruce was screaming. “I don’t want soap in my eyes, no, I want my dinosaur.” His Father screamed at him. “Your Mother’s dead boy, its your fault!” Banner was crying, more so screaming. Because his Father was no sooner then later pulling him to his feet. Kicking and screaming, young Banner was put in the closet, while his Father watched television. He cry all night until his Father kick him outside in the morning, kind enough to give him clothes, and sent him off to school. His Father was a mean drunk. Often Bruce covered his bruises on his frail body, he was shy and scared of making friends. In school he sit alone playing with the rubber dinosaurs, dreaming his own little world. His own anger cause a young boy to turn a pale green. The monster in young Bruce Banner was alive and well. He game home from school that day with a bloody nose. Someone had called his mother a whore. You should see the other kid, he won’t be able to walk again for a few weeks, nor sit right for a month. This brought a weak smile to the young Banner’s lips. The school had called home. Robert, “Bobby” as his Mother called him. Was in for a beating. His Father stood at the door way, pointing for him to get into the bath room. As soon as Banner was nude and sitting in the tub, a belt hit him across the bare bottom, a crack of wet leather rang through the tile. Bobby screamed, as the second lashing drew a drop of blood. To him it seemed to be more then a drop, perhaps it was. “Starting fights boy, what do you think boy. That you’re a man now.” His skin blotched a dark shade of green before quickly, turning to his customary tone. His Father saw this and smiled. “Angry are we boy?“ Bobby could smell the fresh scent of booze on his Father breath. Banner knew his Father blamed him for his Mothers Rebecca’s death. Bruce Banner held himself and when he came to realize he was laying on his bed, he looked around frantic and scared. At first he didn’t know where he was. His bed was soft yet it didn’t provide much comfort on his bare bottom that now blistered purple. Young Banner wanted nothing more to let the demon out, just this once. He wanted to scream, to give into his anger, that was holding him back. He could feel the ripple of anger deep within him, crawling at his wall that was mentally blocking his emotions. He wished this feeling would just fade into nothingness, and it would be no more, then he would wake from this nightmare. Of course he would wake to see his Mother comforting him. But it was always his Father towering over him taunting him. Banner’s eyes turned white, as his milky hazed pupils turned green. He would sake in rage, and his shirt seemed to peel away as his skin turned green, growing in mass, the angrier he got. His pants and shoes would buckle but not the remain of his shredded pants were left handing from his large green legs. An echoing bellow would follow. A towering green mass of flesh and muscle, gave way to the brute monster, of child like mannerisms. “Hulk no like soap in eyes. No like stupid little man whom beat Hulk.” The Hulk bellowed, drool and the smell of something rotten hung from his yellow teeth. His large green eyes narrowed his hand formed a fist. That large green arm brought back that fist, and blood spattered the mirror. In a spray of red. “No one mess with Hulk. Leave Hulk alone.”
A man’s body could be seen tossing and turning in the sheets. He woke screaming, seat covering both the bed and himself. Banner always woke to a scream, and the sudden realization that he was dreaming. To a life that wasn’t his own, he told himself every morning, as he took upon the identity of David Bannen. As he stood in the mirror shaving, careful not to cut himself, to let himself feel the pain of the razor upon his face, as it sliced into his cheek. It didn’t, came the sudden breath of letting himself breath out. He was a handsome gentleman, brown hair and brown eyes that glow like emeralds, if you look close enough. He was in good shape, and he like hard work, often he would take whatever jobs he could get to make it from month to month. Banner wiped clean his face, standing nude before the mirror. He hung the face towel upon it’s neat rack. His ears caught the sound of running warm water. He feet moved toward it, as he stepped into the steam collected shower, and allowed the warmth to wake him into reality. He produced a latter over his body, then quickly rinsed, doing the same for his hair and face. A hand turned the shower knob to off, and a nice clean shaven David--really named Bruce Banner--but the world believes Banner dead--and the creature known as the Hulk is disappeared--still wanted for the death of Bruce Banner. David Bannen stepped from the shower drying himself off with a towel.
Hitch hiking if you could call it that--is where we find--our friend David Bannen. A lone figure wearing a red button up collared shirt, tucked into his blue jeans, a black belt looped through the hole provided. A back pack tossed over the right shoulder, the left hand outward, thumb pointed upwards. Running from the law--his past--and the creature that is wanted for his murder. Or the murder of his past--if you can call it that. Bannen hummed to himself a tune, blue skies in fact. He was good looking--handsome if you could say so. His brown hair waving in the cool breeze. Perhaps someone would come along--and offer him a ride--then again perhaps not.
A FEW HOURS BEFORE.
A man’s body could be seen tossing and turning in the sheets. He woke screaming, seat covering both the bed and himself. Banner always woke to a scream, and the sudden realization that he was dreaming. To a life that wasn’t his own, he told himself every morning, as he took upon the identity of David Bannen. As he stood in the mirror shaving, careful not to cut himself, to let himself feel the pain of the razor upon his face, as it sliced into his cheek. It didn’t, came the sudden breath of letting himself breath out. He was a handsome gentleman, brown hair and brown eyes that glow like emeralds, if you look close enough. He was in good shape, and he like hard work, often he would take whatever jobs he could get to make it from month to month. Banner wiped clean his face, standing nude before the mirror. He hung the face towel upon it’s neat rack. His ears caught the sound of running warm water. He feet moved toward it, as he stepped into the steam collected shower, and allowed the warmth to wake him into reality. He produced a latter over his body, then quickly rinsed, doing the same for his hair and face. A hand turned the shower knob to off, and a nice clean shaven David--really named Bruce Banner--but the world believes Banner dead--and the creature known as the Hulk is disappeared--still wanted for the death of Bruce Banner. He stepped from the shower drying himself off with a towel. He would say good by to this place, he has stayed far to long---a few to many had saw the creature---he couldn’t have people asking around---they might discover he was alive, if they knew whom he was in the first place. He paid his due rent and checked out heading for the high way a few miles down the road. [/color]
4vA]^#PG#IN-7#ST-7#SP-7#DR-7#EP-7#FS-1